


Blessed Be

by SowiloRose



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Magic, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Bilbo can talk to animals, Bilbo is a Green Witch, Bilbo is a Witch, Bilbo is a badass snow white, Bilbo needs real friends, Canon-Typical Violence, Dwarves show up in a different order, Eventual Happy Ending, His secrets aren't secret for long, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I also promise that., I don't have time to edit, I'm sorry if this is garbage but I like magic and the hobbit, I'm writing it because I want to, M/M, Male Slash, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Secrets, Slow Burn, Tarot, Thorin isn't an ass forever, Wizard?, and He'll get them I promise., and Ori is a sweet heart, because Fili and Kili are shits, because I'm god here., don't hate, for real., green witch, not because you have to like it, the animals like Thorin much to his dismay, this is going to get crazy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SowiloRose/pseuds/SowiloRose
Summary: Hobbits had a deep connection with the earth. It was obvious in their bright vibrant fields, their warm hearths, and the utter life they breathed into everything they did. Their connection was perhaps even deeper than a normal outsider would even begin to understand. The spirit of earth and nature was in everything they did, the clothes they wore, the food they ate, even the water they drank. There was a much deeper reason as to why the Shire was so full of life.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Other pairs to come
Comments: 57
Kudos: 329





	1. 0 - The Fool (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone,
> 
> I'm trying to get back into writing as a stress relief. My job is crazy, I don't have anyone to beta read this and make sure it isn't garbage so I'm really sorry if it's garbage. I actively practice witchcraft so any knowledge about ritual or magic comes form that. I'm making this up as I go, posting might be erratic but I really want to write a piece with tons of crazy earth based magic and by gone it I'm going to. 
> 
> My Bilbo is going to be a very free Bilbo, because lets be real once he leaves the Shire he deserves to be a free bird and do whatever he wants.

Blessed Be

by Sowilo Rose

0 – The Fool (Prologue)

The Fool – New beginnings, optimism, trust in life.

Hobbits had a deep connection with the earth. It was obvious in their bright vibrant fields, their warm hearths, and the utter _life_ they breathed into everything they did. Their connection was perhaps even deeper than a normal outsider would even begin to understand. The spirit of earth and nature was in everything they did, the clothes they wore, the food they ate, even the water they drank. There was a much deeper reason as to why the Shire was so full of _life_.

The connection went far deeper than just the earth, it went deeper than the shear reverence they had for the soil, and the trees, and the grass, and every living thing. On a race that relied on the earth for everything including their homes there had to be more than just a passing fancy. Yes, their reverence went into the entire entity of their belief system. From the earth they came, from the earth they take, and thus to the earth they will give to, and eventually return to at the end of their days. After some time, the earth started to give them _more_ than just home and hearth. It gave them things that the outside world wouldn’t dream to have, and that the outside world would most definitely take advantage of if they knew it existed. Their following, their religion was something the outside world never even knew about.

The outside world in fact didn’t know much about the Shire, or Hobbits in general. Hobbits hid so plainly in sight that their secrets went even deeper and darker than that of the dwarves, though of course Dwarves would argue that point to their grave. No, the feigned innocence, the bright nature of hobbits, that was their greatest defense. Dwarves made their secrets far to obvious in the eyes of the Hobbit families. After all, how secret really _are_ your secrets if _everyone_ knows you have them?

The earth around them gave them protection, it gave them life, it gave them _“gifts”._ Each family had their own little _gift._ The Baggins? They were masters of ward work and protection sigils. There was a reason why the Baggins family was one of the wealthier and well thought of families. The Baggins family was one of the first to establish the protection wards, the wards that kept danger and strangers from entering the safe and protected lands of the Shire. The Took’s were masters of divination, they often had gifts that helped them predict the future which was extremely helpful when establishing fields and harvesting crops. Every family had their own set of gifts, sometimes when families blended those gifts will merge, but never did a Hobbit have multiple gifts. That was a strange, scary, and unthinkably odd thing and never heard of after all the earth never give more than someone deserve. That is. Until Bilbo Baggins came along.

You see Bilbo was always an incredibly odd boy. He grew from the love of a Baggins _and_ a Took. From a young age the elders and mayors saw his oddity, they knew there was something _special_ about Bilbo. But _special_ meant _different_ and _different_ was very much not good. Bilbo _saw_ things, a gift that most people would find an amazing gift, but what Bilbo saw never boded well for the others. He saw disputes, failures, he saw the honest futures of others that had him shooting up at night as a child screaming for the dreams to stop. Bilbo _felt_ things, he could feel the dishonesty of his neighbor. He could feel the _unease_ of the other children around him. Now, no matter what the elders wanted you to believe Bilbo’s gifts aren’t all bad, he could _grow_ things. He could _speak_ to things. He could _read_ things. He was such a wonderful gift to his parents that no matter how much the Elders forbid his development or forbid him to grow his _gifts_ his parents never limited him. Taking him into the forest and teaching him in private, showing him the beauty of his gifts helping him to develop into the distinguished Hobbit he grew into with time. The Elders called his gifts ugly, threatened to banish him if he shared or showed his gifts to his own people, let alone outsiders. They threatened to banish him should he even _leave_ and put his gifts at risk of being discovered. Bilbo learned _control._ He learned to hide secrets from his people that did so for a living. Bilbo became a Baggins with the gift of divination (given from his mother’s side and her Tookish roots). Sheltered away from the cruel taunts and hatred the Elders sent his way, they kept him an arm’s reach and he did the same to them.

****

Now he wouldn’t say the others were cruel to him, he had the experiences most faunts did. When he was of school and education age he learned how to read and write like the others, he learned how to take over his father’s land and business. Though unlike the others when the moon was high in the sky and reflected off the rippling pond below The Hill, he would slip into the forest for privacy to practice and let loose some of his _gifts_. He remembered when he was much younger, the beautiful times with his parents following closely behind him. His body vibrating with pent up energy so hard to control as it grew with him. His face bright and open as the moon above them and his parents laughing quietly behind him. Fireflies would dance with him under the full moon, sparks of light upon his fingertips as he danced below the moon.

 _Life_ erupted with every footstep. Wherever he touched new flowers and fauna would grow. The wildlife flocked to see the display of power. The air was thick with the smell of _something_ so familiar, but your senses can’t place as he twirled with delight. Vines and flora trailing after him late into the night, all the way into the early hours of the morning. He would crawl back to his parents, who stood in awe of his display almost every time, a sleepy smile on his face. Relaxed with the tension of so much pent up magic finally out of his young system. The whispers of the trees and the creatures near by following him as he whispered their languages back to them, saying “farewells”, and “until next times” to all the living creatures who came.

His displays of power just as beautiful as they had been so long ago, were more of a solemn march into the darkness. The birds and beasts his only companions as the darkness consumed him. His moods often dictated the growth of his gift, when he was youthful and innocent his flowers were brilliant hues of pinks and yellows, his vines soft and harmless to the touch. His vines were often thorny now, the first time after his parents had passed his flowers were carnations, white lilies, and some of the darkest red roses he had ever seen in his life. His flowers dark and while no less beautiful held a sense of foreboding. His days of sharing his gift were over, his time of introverted study had begun.

He shared his gift only with the birds, beasts, and the trees.


	2. 1 – The Magician (Chapter 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Magician, action, the power to manifest  
> “…I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo obviously there's no such thing as hobbit magic, so I get to have a lot of fun with the already very loose world of magic , ritual, and festivals. Thankfully a lot of festivals celebrated in wicca magically align with dates that are important (or at least going to be important) to this story. I'm currently bottle feeding a premature kitten so I have a LOT of extra time on my hands (she eats every 2-3 hours) so I'm hopefully going to be on a roll with this. Bilbo seems a little meek now, but don't worry. We used the tag BAMF Bilbo for a reason okay? Think of all the awesome and horrific ways you can GROW plants to help you! And who knows maybe I have some more tricks up my sleeve. 
> 
> Anyway here's chapter 1 in it's glory. Please enjoy.
> 
> Blessed Be,   
> Sowilo Rose

Blessed Be

by Sowilo Rose

1 – The Magician (Chapter 1)

The Magician, action, the power to manifest

“…I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure.”

His eyes snapped open suddenly and his body jolted upwards. His eyes frantically scanned the room around him. He was in his home, in his bed. His eyes glanced toward the window, morning, morning on his 50th birthday. Mint crept from under his body as a physical representation of his suspicion something was coming. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to put his finger on _what_ felt so odd in the air. He shook his head trying to shake off his discomfort as the usual discomfort of aging, Bilbo slipped both legs over the edge of his bed, scooting to the very edge of the bed and touching his feet to the floor. An adventure? He couldn’t place the voice that had spoken to him, but it felt so comforting, so familiar. He stood slowly and started to move to prepare for the day. It was a Sunday, his birthday, he reminded himself once more.

The sun was just barely creeping over The Hill, it was far to early to go to market as his usual Sunday would dictate. As he dressed for the day, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he would be hearing about his adventure sooner rather than later. He moved toward the window carved into the wall of his bedroom and pushed it open to let the cool autumn air in and deeply inhaled the fresh scent of the sweet Shire air. The mouthful was thick with the scents of harvest spices in preparation for the Autumn Equinox festival, one of the 3 fall festivals the Hobbit’s celebrated. Bilbo couldn’t remember the last time he had been to the Fall Festivals, preferring to practice his magic and religion in the privacy of his home after the passing of his parents. His eyes closed wistfully remembering the fall festivals with his parents. A sudden explosion of sound and color overtook him in a living memory as his eyes snapped open, fireworks? Why would he remember fireworks?

Shaking off the nagging and continue discomfort, he slowly moved into his main living space. His feet brushing the well cared for warm wooden floors of his smial. Forgoing his kitchen in a unhobbit-ish fashion and instead reaching for his pipe and pipe weed. The scent of mint still following him in his wake. Around him was the warm welcoming sight of his home. Soft brown tones and wooden inlays spoke of the love his father had for his mother, the natural earth was just a layer of beautifully crafted smial away from him, yet it still didn’t feel close enough. He felt like he needed to sit with his toes tucked into the grass of his yard. He would come back in for supper later, for now he needed to untangle his frazzled nerves and try to relax before he needed to head to market. With another heavy exhale he slowly made his way to his big, beautiful round door. His hand touched the cool metal of the handle and he paused. The air felt heavier here, the birds seemed more alarmed and alert than normal. Something was coming, he couldn’t deny that there was a change in their air. Trying to pull together what courage he had he pulled the door open with purpose and stepped into the unknown of the day.

****

The smoke of the pipe was a deep and welcome friend to him. The thick, warm, clouds settled deep in his chest as he sat with is toes deep within the loose soil. Bilbo sat perched on a small bench just inside the fence ‘round his smial. His eyes gazed upon all the herbs and flora in his garden, surrounding his furred feat grew pansies (thoughtfulness, remembrance), as he gazed upon the flora remembering his mother introducing each one to him along with their meanings. When his parents found out he could _grow_ , they had wanted to teach him all the important meanings of his flora. They made him know how important being in tune with his emotions were. They also wanted him to know the importance of the ritual herbs that took up a large part of his garden. Herbs for protection, for peace, to help promote love and good fortune, all actively used in spells for festivals and important milestones for Hobbits in the Shire. The warm breeze took more smoke from his exhale as he thought in remembrance, alone for another birthday, such a sad sight made Bilbo Baggins.

So lost in thought he didn’t notice the immense pull of magic, the heavy weight that was palatable as new presence made its way into the shire. Had he notice, had he been paying attention, he may have scurried into his smial as he was sure other Hobbits were doing at the thick change in the air. Had he smelled the scent of musk and travel, or the slight hint of black powder and cherry tobacco he may have missed what he would soon find to be one the most prevalent moments of his life.

Smoke escaped his lungs once more in an exhale, but quickly came back in a coughing fit as something, _a butterfly made of smoke,_ hit him directly in the nose. He snapped up to stare at the leering cloud of grey that stood stark against the greens and fall warmth of the Shire. A man? Then the feeling hit him, _magic_ , not just any man then. A _wizard?_ He stared dumbfounded for several moments before the tall man, cloak and robes of grey, a thick marbled beard and wiry hair long to his shoulders, a large (ghastly) grey hat perched a top his head. He was so familiar; something tickled the edge of his memory as he tried to just _place_ this man.

“G-Good morning?” He said, more of a question as he tried to catch his baring of the situation. Why was he so familiar? Trying to place just how he knew this man that was so foreign yet so much like home. The wind shifted and Bilbo swore he could hear his mother’s chiming laughter on the wind, and a much deeper laugh joking along.

“What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel _good_ this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that it is a morning to be good on?” The wizard countered, his thick grey brow was perched high in question, a slightly merry look on his face as if he were enjoying this exchange far too much at this time of morning.

Once again Bilbo was dumbfounded, he shifted uncomfortably, trying to hold in the growth of mint and foxglove (insecurity) within his feet and hands. He needed to regain control of the situation or he would be banished without a doubt. “All of them at once I suppose?” His words were hesitant, as if he knew what was coming, and he was trying to sweeten and elongate the achievement. This scene, it felt familiar. “C-can I help you?” he asked softly still trying to regain his proverbial footing.

“That remains to be seen,” the wizard eyed him for a moment, “ _I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure.”_ Bilbo’s blood ran cold. He had seen this, his dream from this morning. Bilbo’s eyes were suddenly sharp as they snapped to look the wizard deep in the eye, searching for answers he desperately needed.

“ _Who are you?_ ” Bilbo asked breathily, he needed to know who this wizard was to think any Hobbit, let alone he Bilbo Baggins, would share in an adventure. The breeze tickled his cheeks teasingly, magic quietly rippling through the air. He shook his head standing up quickly, he needed to escape this situation (but did he want to escape?). “An adventure?... Well, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner!”, Bilbo laughed, but when the Wizard didn’t respond he made work of quickly stepping down the stairs toward his front gate, coming all to uncomfortably close to the wizard who was crackling with power. Power Bilbo likely couldn’t even fathom. (Bilbo couldn’t help but let a small flora fall from his hair out of discomfort, he hadn’t ever felt this kind of magic before… _or had he?)_. Trembling fingers reached for his mailbox out of desperation for a distraction. Making purchase _thankfully_ on an exceedingly rare piece of mail. “g-g-good morning then”, he chirped out and turned to retreat into his smial.

“To think that I should have lived to be "good morninged" by Belladonna Took's son as if I were selling buttons at the door!” The wizard snorted clearly aghast and _amused?_ At Bilbo’s lack of recognition.

“I beg your pardon?” Bilbo squawked, stopping and turning slightly to look back at the man.

“You’ve changed and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins.” The Wizard seemed more imposing now. Bilbo could _feel_ frustration rolling off of him. This exchange wasn’t going the way the wizard had wanted it to, obviously. Bilbo had a sinking feeling he knew exactly why.

His mind flashed back to the laughter and smiles of his mother, music and the scent of sage wafted across his vivid memory. Then the next second it was full of a darker image. Tears, the scent of blood, _pain, anguish_ , the scent of _death_. Belladonna had been the light of he and his father’s worlds, and when the wolves came, when Bungo and his wards had failed, all the light had seemingly vanished from his worlds. Another explosion of light filtered across his memory, squealing laughter and the sound of music.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?!” He was alarmed now, he did, he knew he did, why couldn’t he place this wizard who so obviously knew him.

“Well, you know my name although you don't remember I belong to it; I am Gandalf! And Gandalf means... me.” _Gandalf_ said with an exasperated expression. _Agitation_ very thinly veiled agitation vibrated across Bilbo’s _gift_.

****

Bilbo dropped his mail.

Oh. _Oh_. Gandalf. Yes. Memories came flooding back to Bilbo. Festivals around the Party Tree. Laughter with the other fauntlings as Gandalf spun wonderful stories of adventure. The mid-summer festivals with beautiful fireworks that danced across the sky. Belladonna Took-Baggins dancing with Bilbo in hand around the garden while Gandalf smoked quietly on the bench. Bilbo growing his first flora (a bright yellow tulip meaning cheerful thoughts and sunshine) to give specifically for Gandalf. Belladonna swearing Gandalf to secrecy for fear of Bilbo’s life. Gandalf dancing in the woods with a young Bilbo under a full moon with creatures young and old joining in their ethereal display.

“Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey.” Bilbo said staring at Gandalf as if he were a ghost. His mind was cheerfully blank at that moment, likely for the first time in a decade. Memories of happy times fluttering cross his minds eye like a butterfly before turning dark once again, “I gave you a yellow tulip because you reminded me of sunshine.” He was now fully facing the wizard, drinking in the features of the man. He manifested all of his memories and thoughts into this one moment, remembering the memories and the countless days _wondering_. “You missed her funeral”. He said softly, seeming to come back to himself. Shaking the quiet laughter and whispers of a different time from his head. _Gandalf_ wouldn’t have been allowed to attend the funeral rituals had he even wanted to, but the thought of the matter was the issue.

Gandalf’s eyes widened for a moment before he seemed to regain composure. _Relief_ suddenly was the most forward of the wizard’s emotions, he had been expecting a warm reunion, not a Bilbo who barely recognized him. “I was indisposed unfortunately during the time of her funeral; I would have been honored to have attended.” The Wizard said with sorrow tinting his voice and emotions.

Bilbo motioned for Gandalf to enter his garden and the wizard cautiously did so. Subtly avoiding hitting the heather plants on either side of the gate with his staff. The wards around Bag End shuttered comfortably instantly accepting Gandalf as one of its residents with no more than a wave of Bilbo’s hand. Bag end must have remembered the Grey Wizard as well. It had likely recognized him long before he came to stand toe to toe with Bilbo at his door.

“Have you seen anything?” The wizard asks, guiding Bilbo to sit upon his bench again. Picking up the pipe which had been dropped at the beginning of the exchange, knocking the weed out, and tucking it neatly into Bilbo’s pocket.

Bilbo shook his head, sitting beside the wizard, allowing himself to be guided as need be. He was feeling a tad faint now. Everything hitting him all at once, the gravity of the situation.

“I have companions awaiting my word of your acceptance, would you consider it?” The wizard asked, moving to stand but motioning for Bilbo to stay seated. “the adventure?”. The wizard prompts at the slightly oblivious and brainless look on Bilbo’s face.

“It’s a lot to consider, I’ve a lot to lose…” Bilbo trailed off, his eyes gazing around him and Bag End and its beautiful gardens once again.

“Will you consider housing them and hearing their tale before weighing your decision?” The wizard pried. His expression seemingly desperate under the confidence and question. He knew he had Bilbo’s interest the second he said adventure. Bilbo had always been week for even hearing the word in stories. He craved adventure, but the things he had to leave behind and give up for an adventure may greatly outweigh his own personal gains.

“How many?” Bilbo sighed, putting his head in his hands and missing the look of victory on The Grey Wizard’s face. The wizard had known he had won since Bilbo lowered the wards for him. Anyone other than a Hobbit must be invited onto the grounds or they could not find or enter them. That was how hobbits had stayed so protected for so long. Bilbo allowing Gandalf through the gate was as good as signing a contract and agreeing to the adventure. Though the Wizard knew the battle wasn’t over yet.

“Thirteen.” The wizard said calmly, a smug smile on his face was unmoved when Bilbo’s head jerked up in surprise. The Hobbit’s jaw dropped in surprise. Bilbo couldn’t name the last time he had even _talked_ to thirteen creatures, let along house them in his house.

“THIRTEEN?” Bilbo exclaimed. The reality of the situation catching up to him. He stood, if he was going to have that many people in his home he needed to get moving. The market had long since been opened for the day and if he didn’t hurry, he never would make it in time to get the best selection of foods and ale. “Oh, bugger it, you go tell them to come. I have work to do! I’ll lower the wards and make a sigil on the door so they can find me.” He said, bustling off like a worrisome mother to grab his coin purse and market day clothing.

Barely hearing Gandalf’s “We’ll be back in time for Supper.”

****

Without another word Bilbo was carving a sigil into his freshly painted door and off in a hustle into his home to gather his things. Into the dark smial he went, barely a hand wave in farewell to the wizard as he went. He would adjust Bag End and its wards once he returned to accept new spirits and souls into the home. He wouldn’t do it before in case a wanderer came by while he was away at market.

He put on the best market clothes he had, a pair of green trousers with a cream undershirt, butter yellow vest, and blue kerchief before bursting back through the home. Meats, ales, cheese, he needed to restock his stores in general but now he would need travel supplies as well. He hadn’t had a bedroll since he was in his tween years, he would need non-perishable foods and canned goods, would he need a _pony?_ Would anyone in the Shire even have a ridable pony to sell?

Not to mention a cloak with a protection sigil, spell jars, witches’ bells for safe travel, who knew how long he would be on the road. He needed to consider his religious practices as well with his purchases. His list was long and his pockets deep. This likely would be the most coin the market had seen in quite some time… But if he was potentially to be banished for this, if the Elders truly were serious when he was a Tween forbidden to go out of the Shire. He was going to make this worth his weight in gold.

Flustered Bilbo bustled down The Hill and into Hobbiton Market. He had many a thing to do and a ridiculously small amount of time to do it.

He sure hoped he could find enough ale.


	3. The High Priestess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 – The High Priestess (Chapter 2)  
> The High Priestess, Inaction, going within, the mystical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrug*
> 
> I'm on a roll, I'm not sleeping, and I'm extremely stressed even on my days off. You guys might just be my creative stress relief that doesn't end up in murder. I hope you enjoy, I have plans today but I'll be back at it again this evening and working on a few more chapters between feeding my bottle baby. 
> 
> I should say for those of you who don't know me yet, I'm the manager at a animal shelter and when I say the animals are the easy part of my job I mean it. Today is my first day off in 21 days, and I've still gotten 3 phone calls from staff related issues going on. I'm pooped. Please enjoy this as I type my stress out, this is all I have right now. So... Enjoy I guess.
> 
> Still not beta read, I'm dying like a man.

Blessed Be

by Sowilo Rose

2 – The High Priestess (Chapter 2)

The High Priestess, Inaction, going within, the mystical

Bilbo already knew he was an oddity. Today he must have looked an absolute fool. The sun was warming the earth much higher in the sky than when he had first begun his day that morning. The autumn leaves crunched peacefully beneath his feet as he moved with an obvious purpose through the Hobbiton Market that day. His orders had been placed with a tone to not ask why, as normal, but an urgency that pushed even the most stubborn or lazy of his kind to work for him. The higher than normal volume of coin had the vendors and salesclerk gnawing at the bit to get Bilbo in their stalls, but he was on a mission with a very tight schedule. Most shops greeting him with a strained “Happy Birthday, Master Baggins.” Or a breathy “Blessed be” Some not even able to speak a greeting to him before he barked off an order and was on to the next store. Strict instructions to make deliveries well before afternoon tea _or else._

The market seemed more vibrant today, perhaps it was the reds, oranges, and yellows tinting the trees along the path. Perhaps the colored fabrics and foods just seemed all the brighter. Bilbo couldn’t help the gnawing sensation that this would be one, if not his last, day ever stepping foot in Hobbiton on a market day again. He took in the hanging meats and cheeses, took a second to pat a pig on the bottom that a Proudfoot was pulling through the market. He stopped to buy a piece of candy for a small fauntling whose mother was too busy gossiping to notice. He took in the colorful dresses, the warmth of the sun on his flushed face. The whisper of the earth on the wind, the warmth of the red soil on his feet. He tried to cherish it all as he moved through the market. Nodding to each passing Hobbit, even as they cleared a path and made way for his “strangeness”. He knew he would be talk of the town throughout the day after he departed the market, he knew he couldn’t afford to waste any more time, but he couldn’t help but revel in the memories the market held.

Peaceful strolls through the market on a Sunday morning with Belladonna and Bungo Baggins, holding his parent’s shopping basket as they gossiped and meandered their way through the market. Belladonna bringing a smile to every face she spoke with. Twirling young Took fauntlings around causing an eruption of giggles. Even as a gentlehobbit Bilbo loved watching his mother interact with the others. As an oddity they kept their distance and made a path for him, but his mother, even despite being the one who brought him into the world, was welcomed until her dying breath.

If only they had welcomed Bilbo the same, maybe things could have been different.

****

By the time the sun began to fall Bilbo had cooked, roasted, smoked, baked, and sautéed more than he had in his entire life. Meats, casseroles, pots and pans littered his warming shelves and kitchen. Fish, braised pork, roast beef, and every potato dish you possibly could imagine littered the home. Bread and deserts, berry cobblers, pies, sweet breads, dinner rolls were on the buffet table in the dining room, cold dishes also, he kept his cheeses in the cold cellar just a little longer unsure when the first arrival would be.

He struggled to pull his large table out of storage, regretting not offering to pay one of the young delivery boy a little extra coin to stay and help him rearrange his home for 13 new someone’s to take comfort in if only for a few hours before moving off into the dark and scary world. Moving couches, fluffing pillows, sliding chairs and glory boxes to safety. He took a moment to breathe in and think of all he had done in preparation. He had prepped the small stable area his mother had saved for their cattle and goats, just in case they had ponies. Fluffing piles of hay and filling wooden troughs and water buckets with fresh clean water. Putting an apple in each stall and thanking one of the many stray cats in the area for keeping the stable so clean even in its disuse. He checked dishes as they cooked, moved as many benches, chairs, recliners, and the like into the large dining hall in the home in hopes he did enough. As the moon started to climb higher in the sky Bilbo started to organize some of the flora that slipped from his grasp in his panic and rush. Anthurium (for hospitality), Lilly of the Valley (returning happiness), and Lavender (for peace), all organized in dozens of little flowerpots and vases he could find littered around the smial. The sweet scent of Lilly of the Valley and Lavender bringing a small hesitant smile to his now tired lips.

Bilbo took in the sight, the welcoming smial. Warmth radiating from the hearth. Photos of his mother and father hanging on the painted cream walls. Stained oak walls and floors filled with memories and dreams. So much potential ended so soon. Room after empty room, just filled with Bilbo and his flora, and the beasts that came in and out to visit during the spans of their lives. He could envision all the dreams that had once filled this home, until he came along, and his mother wasn’t allowed to bear anymore children. Deep into the hill intended for fauntlings and laughter now sat near empty. Tattered bittersweet memories dancing across Bilbo’s minds eye.

His physical eye drifted toward the entrance hall, yes it was time to work on the wards.

****

Bilbo glided into the main entrance hall with hesitant purpose. He hadn’t changed the wards or sigils inside the home since his parents had passed. Not until this very day when he had adjusted them for Gandalf to enter his yard. The magic hummed peacefully as it always did, a vibration so familiar it was second nature. The Baggins Sigil, Bungo had been one of the best at ward craft and sealing sigils, it was entirely unique to Bag End. The protection, the promise of peace, it was something a guest felt as soon as they set foot in the welcoming warmth. It was a natural warmth from the lived-in atmosphere, but it was helped but earth magic and the sigils littering the walls and wood of the home. Here you were safe, the magic was second nature but often could be oppressive to a newcomer entering the home. Surrounding, tendrils of ethereal curiosity learning its new occupants. 

Bilbo hesitantly lifted trembling hands to touch the sigil, smiling softly at the remembrance of the ritual which went into sealing the home from unwanted visitors. His hand slowly drifted to the doorknob, it was time to adjust Bag End’s wards, no way his guests wouldn’t be arriving soon. He grabbed a bag of protective salt which was resting by the doorway, blessed by the Elders and his mother so long ago, and headed out into the world. It was time.

****

The temperature had already been fair that day but stepping out into the full moon and cool air of autumn put a chill through is bones. He shivered at the feeling of the silver rays of light on his skin. The breeze brought in the longing to run, normally on a full moon on his birthday of all days he would be running with the birds and beasts. Growing life and flora in his wake, dancing with the fairies and fae folk that lived within the living things. Sending sparks of light and creation from his fingertips. For a brief moment he considered doing just that. Faintly in the distance he could hear the Autumn Equinox festival in full swing. At lest his guests would be uninterrupted, the Hobbits of the Shire would be indisposed for several days after the festivals. He could see the fire by the party tree, hear the quiet song and chant of the ritual to thank the earth for the yearly harvest. He had almost forgotten of his rituals, perhaps fixing his wards and sigils would work for his reverence this year. He drew himself a protective sigil and a circle on the ground with his course salt, and mentally prepared himself to get to work.

With a deep sigh and a raising of his hands he started to manipulate the wards around him. A subtle glow surrounding his hands and he began chanting. Flowers growing around him in a slow blanket the grass of his front hill. The air growing thick with ritual of the harvest festival and his magic releasing from his body. He could feel the sigils changing around him, lines morphing and wood healing. Adding lines of protection, for these visitors soon to arrive. The earth and air crackled around him. Lilly of the valley and lavender sprouting around him. Heather popping around him and the stairs clover plush and bringing promise to the wards. Promise of safety, of welcome. Daffodil, so out of place in the autumn world, a promise of new beginnings. He knew his guests likely wouldn’t understand, but any Hobbit who walked by the next morning would know whoever was staying here was an honored guest and under the protection of the earth and its spirits. Even if he didn’t join his new companions, they would be blessed by the spirits on their journey, and with these wards and changes to his family sigils always be welcomed in Bag End, even if he himself wasn’t.

When he was done, he opened his eyes and saw a collection of little beasts and bugs fluttering around his entrance way. Sweat dripped down into his eyes as he raised a trembling hand to push his damp curls out of his eyes. His optics crackled with energy, glowing a haunting hazel, almost yellow, as the effects from the His wards were set. He was physically ready for his guests even if mentally he was far from prepared. He leaned down and reached his hand to a hare that sat nearby, inviting it to come within his circle. The creatures flocked to him and he sat in silence. Mentally thanking the creatures for their comfort in what was sure to be a trying evening.

“Well I guess I best get to packing, shouldn’t I sweet things?”

****

Packing went much quicker than he thought. All of his new travel goods had arrived, he tried not to raise suspicion and was using his mothers’ old bags and bedding. The Elders said if he were to leave, he couldn’t come back. He didn’t need them flocking to his Smial while he was trying to prepare a feast for his new arrivals. A cloak with protective sigils embroidered, a spell jar necklace for protection, several pairs of trousers, shirts, and even _socks_ filled his pack. Though the protection jar went over his head, filled with course salt, obsidian, and lavender a blown glass jar sealed with a black candle was the perfect recipe, hopefully it gave him the protection and guidance he needs.

He was just setting his bag by the door when he heard a deep echoing sound on his large round beautifully green door.

A sound he hadn’t heard in quite some time, even his gardener came when he wasn’t home and remained outside during the duration of his service.

There was a knock at his door.


	4. The Empress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 – The Empress (Chapter 3)  
> The Empress, abundance, nurturing, fertility, life in bloom!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, we die like men. 
> 
> I'm back and at it again with a new chapter. This kitten has been the best inspiration due to lack of sleep and way to much time on my hands. I go back to work on Monday so posting may slow down a bit, but for now you'll get as many chapters as I can write in a 48hr period. I'm going to try my hardest to not drop this story like all my others. I've been very inspired by witchcraft recently, again as I actively practice and run a tarot shop on the side. 
> 
> But I digress, we meet the Dwarrow in this chapter, I don't introduce them in order because I'm god here and I run the show. Really the only introduction out of order is Fili and Kili come first because I love them. Everything else is in order. Just strap in for this adventure because we have a smial full.

Blessed Be

by Sowilo Rose

3 – The Empress (Chapter 3)

The Empress, abundance, nurturing, fertility, life in bloom!

A knock… at his door. Suddenly everything became very real. His hands felt clammy to the touch, his body was vibrating with an electric energy. His heart was racing faster than it had even when Gandalf had stepped foot in his garden. Some nagging in the back of his mind said he hoped Gandalf would be the first to arrive, but he had a sinking feeling based on the weight on the knock that it alas was not Gandalf, and he was about to be plunged directly into meeting a stranger.

At the sound of another knock Bilbo jolted back to reality and hurried to the door. His bare feet pattering across the ground quickly as the knock sounded again.

“How impatient” he mumbled under his breath, trying to adjust himself before he faced the new experience. Bilbo didn’t _meet_ people. His own kind barely came near him, let alone introduce him. Big people, when they came into town when Hobbits opened the wards to traders and black smiths during the summer seasons for repairs to tools, weren’t disgusted by him. But usually he just stayed away out of principle. When they see how he is treated by his own kind normally they will treat him the same.

Adjusting his cotton suspenders and straightening his cream shirt into brown trousers he took a deep breath. Trying to kick away a daffodil that fell from his uncertain and nervous fingertips. Unconsciously brushing a daisy into his hair while fluttering about as a caged bird. With one deep and final breath he purposefully unlocked the door (mostly so his guest knew he was there), and pulled the door open wide with a flourish.

****

Staring back at him were two stern looking dwarves, _dwarves?_ Bilbo hadn’t really taken into consideration the species of visitors he would be having, but Dwarves really hadn’t crossed his mind in the slightest. A pair of young brothers it seems, one dark in coloration, dark youthful eyes and _humor_ underlying their stern expression. The other a mane of wild blond hair and eyes the color of a spring sky. Intricate braids decorated the lion of the pair, sword strung on his back, knives and other weapons peeking out of his coat. The wolf of the pair had a bow strung on his back, knives and a quiver of arrows were within his reach. His eyes sparked with delight, but his face was obviously pressed in serious concentration. These boys were just that _boys_. They bowed deeply, surprising Bilbo, but when they came up their faces shared similar confident smiles and their bodies relaxed.

“Fili,” the lion said, deep voice relaxing and rumbling with a playful timber.

“Kili,” The wolf chirped,

“At your service!” they said at the same time. Bilbo stepped back slightly but couldn’t help but smile. These boys _felt_ nice. They felt like a youthful walk with his mother by the Brandywine river. A spring morning growing and collecting flowers to decorate his hearth for the spring celebrations of life. Yes, they felt so _youthful_ and _wonderful_. All his tension seemed to drain from his body in one moment.

“You must be Mr. Boggins!” Kili said, Bilbo couldn’t tell if he were teasing or not with mispronouncing his name, but he smiled anyway.

“It’s Baggins, but please, call me Bilbo. Welcome to my home, _blessed be_.” He said bowing deeply, taking a step out of the way. Giving the traditional Hobbitish greeting in his language. “ah, ah, ah wait!” Stopping the boys before they could charge into the Smial and cause destruction. They were _filthy_. “Muddy boots off, weapons on the table, washroom is to the right, please clean up before joining me in the main dining room. That’s the last door on the _left_ from the washroom. I’ll make you up a plate to tide you over for the rest of your group.” He directed and started helping the boys pull off cloaks and shutting the door behind them. He hung their heavy cloaks on the rack to the left of the door before he watched them march off to the washroom with similar looks of disbelief.

He pattered down the hallway, listening to the running water and splashing coming from the washroom. Slightly dreading the mess, they were so sure to be making in his home. He hadn’t expected the anxiety from having so many unknown in his home. He hoped silently to himself that they were all as lovely feeling as the young dwarves.

He put together a small plate by Hobbit standards, he had cured meats and cheeses on a plate, the hot plates still warming the food in the kitchen hidden for the true feast. The table was still heavily covered with the majority of his stores he hadn’t packed for the trip. Meats, cheeses, scones and breads, jams, and every pastry you could think of littered the table. He hoped the salami, ham, turkey, and summer sausage would be enough to tide the majority over. Suddenly fretting that he hadn’t made enough. He had heard that dwarf appetites almost rivaled _hobbit_ appetites.

He spun suddenly when he heard a double inhale of breath, seemingly shocked at the open mouth staring of the boys.

“I do hope this is enough, I have the feast warming in the kitchen, but I didn’t want to set it out until everyone arrived.” He started, trotting to the boys and guiding them to the full plates he had set on the table, watching with an amused expression as the boys immediately dug into the plates he sat in front of them “I would have made more had I been expecting you all.” He mumbled the last part more to himself than the boys, but Fili, the blond wonder that he was seemed to stiffen and look at him with eyes wide as the serving platters before him, Kili sharing a similar look of horror halting the inhalation of his food.

“You weren’t expecting us?” Fili said suddenly, food he had been about to shove into his mouth fell to the plate suddenly before he seemed to compose himself.

“Oh, not actually, I only heard of your arrival this morning. It’s my birthday actually, I wasn’t really planning on anything other than Market day and eating a fish with potatoes…” He trailed off stuttering nervously at the serious expression on the boys’ face. “I haven’t had guest on my birthday in over 20 years it’s a welcome surprise I assure you!” He back petaled, hands raising to appease them. It was then that he felt it. _They were in awe_. He could feel it, though he wasn’t sure.

“Happy birthday Bilbo!” Kili squawked at the same time that Fili coughed out “Gandalf assured us several weeks ago you knew of our arrival.”

Bilbo’s head snapped between the two, a delighted _thank you_ escaped his lips in response to Kili, but confusion clouded his eyes as he shook his head. “No, until today it had been several decades since I’ve seen or heard from Gandalf the Grey, but none the less you and your company are welcome here in my smial.” He said with a since of finalization. He hoped the reaction wouldn’t be the same with every set of dwarves. He felt the magic of his home turn heavy again, someone new was approaching, he wanted to escape this situation, so with a shake of his head he looked at the boys with a small encouraging smile. “please boys, eat. You look tired, tide yourself over. Would you like some ale?” He said sweetly. His body relaxed when the boys went to munching happily. He trotted off as they both gave affirmative at his question of ale. He wondered down the hall, took two left turns and climbed into his cold storage to tap a fresh ale for the boys. Now he knew there were at least two Dwarves in the company he would pull the alcohol out. If they were anything like Hobbits, it would be a joyous gathering if anything.

****

Climbing out of the cold store with the smaller of his kegs he almost missed the commotion of knocking on his door. Stumbling at the sudden eruption of “We’ll get it!” the stampede of bare dwarven feet across the floor. He tried not to let his nerves swell up within his chest. Kili and Fili had been so pleasant, there was no way that the newest Dwarven companions could be anything but lovely. He stumbled over a rug, and accidently bumped into the corner of the table before he felt the weight of the keg left off of his shoulder.

He turned to see one of the largest hulking masses of a Dwarrow he had seen in his entire life. Tattoos covered his bald head. Intricate piercings littered his ears and thick rings and bracers covered his arms. The Dwarf lifted the keg like it was a kitten in his arms with grunt and finished the walk to the one open space on the buffet table before turning to at Bilbo. He had thick hair on the side of his head and on his face, there were no braids through his as Fili’s though. They sized each other up for several moments before Fili and Kili came tumbling back into the room.

“Bilbo! This is Master Dwalin! We took care of his weapons and cloak for you!” Kili exclaimed. Bilbo, for lack of knowledge on what to do picked up the nearest plate of cookies (which just so happened to be blueberry chocolate chunk) and extended them to Dwalin who instantly seemed delighted. “We made him wash up as well!” they exclaimed as Dwalin took the entire plate from Bilbo who smiled brightly with encouragement. Dwalin bowed deeply, mouth full of cookie crumbs.

“Welcome to my home Master Dwalin, _blessed be_.” Traditional greeting slipping from his tongue with a happy smile. Bilbo worked quickly to throw together a cold plate for Dwalin, let it never be said that he wasn’t a good host. A Baggins knew how to entertain, even if this were technically his first solo dinner party since his parents, he would take care of his guests if it were the last thing he did.

He couldn’t help but smile as he puttered around, listening to Fili and Kili catch up on their extremely adventurous life. He was thankful that they took over keeping Dwalin entertained as he went to work starting to move the hot plates to the table. He heard Kili and Fili make note that he hadn’t been expecting them until that morning and kept himself busy as to not see the expression on Dwalin’s face. It was a hobbit’s pleasure to be a host, he didn’t quite understand _why_ everyone was so _surprised_. When the boys once again took a plate from his hands to set on the buffet or shuffle platters around on the table. He took a moment to stop and watch the boys and their new arrival. Everyone _felt_ at ease. Just as the wards had intended, just as _he_ intended. His eyes moved to the picture of his mother on the wall with a small shadowed smile. Yes, it was as Bag End was designed. He was glad the earth around him and his mother was able to watch over this.

Bilbo felt the wards shift once again; someone was approaching the door once again.

He started toward the entrance of the smial, he would let the boys fuss over making the table full of his abundant feast. He was thankful the 3 had so far made themselves at home. He hoped the other 10 would fit into his space so well. He wanted them to be full and comfortable, after all he wasn’t sure when they would next have such accommodations.

Before the new arrival could even knock, or even make it entirely up the stair Bilbo opened the door. The cool evening air cooling his nerves and worries. He got the first sight of his newest guest when the Dwarf stopped halfway up the stair, startled that the door had opened before he had even reached the top of The Hill.

“Hello, you must be another one of my unexpected guests?” Bilbo questioned, opening the door slightly wider, bathing the front stoop in the warm light from the smial. “I’m Bilbo Baggins, welcome to my smial. _Blessed be_.” He said with a bow. Stepping out of the way of the newest Dwarf. When the Dwarf reached the top step he only just barely faltered at Bilbo’s introduction. The white Dwarf had long snow-white hair atop his head and upon his face, reminding bilbo slightly of a jollier father Christmas. While his appearance suggested age, his eyes twinkled brightly. His stature and clothes suggested scholar, but Bilbo had no doubt this Dwarf had seen his fair share of battles.

“Unexpected but not unwelcome I hope?” The Dwarf countered, a cheer and question on his tone. He _felt_ confused but he didn’t let that show on his face. Another feeling of family, welcoming. The breeze fluttered across Bilbo’s cheeks and he instantly was comfortable. Meeting a solo Dwarf was pleasant, he was able to focus his gift entirely on the Dwarf. _Curiosity, concern,_ and _hope_ seemed to be the most prominent emotions coming across from the friendly Dwarf. “I’m Balin, I do hope I’m not late?” he questioned, stepping in around Bilbo but maintaining eye contact. Bilbo stretched out his arms for his cloak which Balin removed deftly and gave up without any protest. He also easily gave up weapons and slipped off boots upon seeing the other pairs by the door.

“I was told of thirteen, you are the fourth. A Fili, Kili, and Dwalin have arrived ahead of you. We have a spread of cheese and meats to tide us over until the rest arrive.” Bilbo said leading Balin down the long warm hallway, speaking openly and with the welcoming air he was shown to.

“Do set a plate aside, the leader of our company, Thorin had a meeting to attend before coming here, he is a bit late and I fear the others may be ravenous when they arrive.” Balin asked of Bilbo what he had secretly already done. It was common practice to set an extra place for those who could only attend in spirit, but he was glad now he set extra aside in the kitchen. He doubted the Dwarves even fathomed the amount of food he had prepared for the event if the surprise he noted even on Balin upon seeing the food set for them was anything to go by.

****

Bilbo was slightly aghast upon the greeting Balin gave Dwalin, Bilbo’s head hurt just watching theirs collide. He figured based on the gentler greetings Balin gave the boys that they all must have been related in some manner or know each other very well. He was happily surprised that they engaged him as much as each other. He had expected to be ignored and cast aside as he normally was at his own kind’s gatherings. He politely answered what he could, fingers and toes itching to release flora, his smial was normally a place of safety and not be able to release his powers on a full moon of all nights he was finding himself… _itchy._

Bilbo stepped out of the dining room once more, needing space from all the overwhelming sound. He really hadn’t expected company to be so _overwhelming_. He truly was out of touch.

He wondered over to the door, his eyes glancing to the pipe sitting atop a small wooden shelve near his walking stick, maybe he would go out for just a moment. He felt like he really needed a second of peace.

Without much thought, so distracted by the sudden feeling of panic, he didn’t feel the sudden pressure of more company in the wards. Had he felt the appearance of more spirits into his wards he would have maybe been more cautious. Unfortunately, though, he did not. So, when he swung the door open suddenly to find a wall of several Dwarven warriors and scholars pushed against it and they all tumbled on top of him he knew this was going to be far more interesting of a night than he had originally pictured.

This was going to be much more interesting indeed.


	5. 4 – The Emperor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Emperor, Structure, stability, rules and power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I'm back. Sorry guys, I had intended to post this on September 1st but to be entirely honest my life came to a screeching halt. Fiancée broke off everything and kicked myself and my animals out. I had 48 hours to move everything I had acquired and made of myself for 4 years 6 hours home. I've Finally had a moment to collect myself emotionally and physically and found the drive to start writing again. Started a new career, adopted a broken kitten, broke my lap top, bought a new one, cut my hair, got 2 tattoos, and have basically said fuck everything I'm doing what I want. Updates will be semi-regular again, I'm in a different state, different job, and totally different hours but I'll have more time off and more of a desire to keep busy.

Blessed Be 

by Sowilo Rose 

4 – The Emperor (Chapter 4) 

The Emperor, Structure, stability, rules and power 

_Feelings/Floral meanings_

“ _Hobbitish”_

Of all the things Bilbo thought would happen tonight, having a large _heavy_ pile of Dwarrow land on top of him at a very impromptu party on his birthday was the last thing on his mind. A jolly good bunch that they were, they were (had he mentioned this yet?) _heavy._ The tickling of small vines crawling from his fingers were the only distraction he had from the panic that was rising in his body. 

The Dwarfs scrambled off of him, a warm chocolate eyed Dwarf with two thick braids, a mustache, and a large floppy hat pulled him up with a flourish and a “’ello! The names Bofur!” Bilbo could barely cough out a greeting before he was passed around and introduced to the newest numbers added into his home. Bombur, Bifur, Ori, Nori, Dori, Gloin, and Oin all crowded into the entrance of his home. Not to be without Gandalf who was attempting to look as innocent and meek as possible. The shear idea of Gandalf being _innocent_ especially when he felt so _mischievous_ . He greeted each with a smile and a _blessed be_ before sending them with instructions to clean up and head to the main dining room and get settled in. 

“Should we wait for the last Gandalf?” Bilbo questioned, lingering back with the wizard as the Dwarrow made down his hallway like a herd of stray cats. “I saved a plate, but I don’t wish to start the feast without all of our guests…” He trailed off. His eyes taking in each of the Dwarrow joyously reuniting with friends, with family, with fellow scholar and warrior. He gratefully accepted the cup of chamomile tea that the intricately braided silver Dwarf offered him (Dori?) the one that _felt_ like a _mother_ . Warm, inviting, slightly suspicious of Bilbo but none the less seemingly elated with the amount of food. It was a pleasure to watch him fret over the youngest _Ri_ brother, the bowl haired scholar with the loveliest knit sweater Bilbo had ever seen in his entire life. 

“As long as you saved a plate, he wouldn’t want them go hungry on his part. It isn’t his nature to put his needs over his company.” Gandalf said, watching as Bilbo immediately jumped to action. Pulling the meats and side dishes into the dining room. Almost immediately Bofur, Fili and Kili were up helping him serve all the guests. Grabbing plates _pointedly not his mother’s finest dishes_ , that Bilbo had set out for the company. He watched with such contentment as the Dwarves, obviously so unused to welcome or hospitality but so _bright_ with life and thankfulness. 

**** 

The party was in full swing, ale and food handed around with such gusto. They had been eating for almost a solid hour and only just began to slow. Bilbo had several more dishes and plates full of food should they need it, not including the one he had set aside for the last mystery guest. They likely would have more than enough set aside for breakfast before their departure, he assumed they would be leaving earlier in the day. 

Bilbo couldn’t help but slip into the kitchen and slide several lotus (contentment) into various mugs and cups. He understood why his mother once wanted to fill the halls of Bag End with light and laughter. That is before _he_ came along and complicated her life . The joy of making others _smile_ and _feel_ so pleased. He heard the belches and the laughter and couldn’t help but feel absolutely elated. No matter what this quest was, no matter what the future holds he would hold on to this memory for years to come. 

He moved quietly out of the kitchen and into his main hall. Feet softly gliding out to his large green door. His hand slipped into the pocket of his trousers once again pull his pipe. He pulled the door open, sounds of his own party seemed to mix and mingle with the festivals and joy exploding outside as well. He paused in his doorway; the candlelight seemed to be shadowed by the utter brilliance of the full moon. He hadn’t quite remembered an Autumn Equinox quite so beautiful. His eyes drifted to the bench at the bottom of his stairs, only to be surprised by a shadow seated upon it. The shape was hunched over, wreaking of _defeat_ . From what Bilbo could see the stranger sat with his head in his hands, long _thick_ hair bellowing around him, only being jostled by the teasing autumn breeze. 

“Oh, excuse me!” Bilbo said, startling the shape into standing. Bilbo was met with a figure that vaguely reminded him of Kili, but he couldn’t tell in the moonlight. Bilbo stepped into the outside world and shut the door softly behind him. He hadn’t felt a shift in the wards, but he had been so focused on the others he just might not have felt them become even heavier with the weight of another soul. The still heard the sigils in the home buzzing with power, obviously blessed and appeased by the joy going on inside. “A-Are you my final guest?” Bilbo asked quietly, a small smile on his mouth. “I’m terribly sorry, I would have given you privacy had I known you were here.” He continued. 

He could feel the Dwarf sizing him up. Practically feeling the judgement linger over him. Bilbo know he didn’t look like much. Especially to a massive Dwarf that just screamed _masculine divinity._ Bilbo fidgeted with his shirt sleeves slightly under the intense _cold, ice, frozen_ blue gaze of the Dwarf. 

“I’m Bilbo Baggins, welcome to my home,” He continued, bowing deeply, but grasping for anything he could get out of the Dwarf. “I’m sorry I don’t know who you are, I didn’t know I was having company until Gandalf stopped for the first time in 25 years this morning.” He stuttered out. That seemed to have gotten the Dwarfs attention. Though it was another several seconds before the Dwarf even made any attempt or motion to speak. His gaze calculating, his _surprise_ was easily felt by Bilbo. Bilbo wasn’t even sure he needed the gift to make that identification of emotions. 

“You were not aware of our arrival?” The Dwarf questioned, taking on several of the steps toward Bilbo, still not answering his question of _who_ he was. 

“Oh-Oh no, it was a very welcome but unexpected surprise” He squeaked quietly in response to the Dwarf. Suddenly uncomfortable and realizing the situation he was in. He had a company of characters in his home, but no one knew he was outside or face to face with a complete stranger. “Honestly, it is the most lively my home has been since my parent’s death, you’re all a very welcome surprise on my Birthday.” He took a step back, his rump hit the beautiful green door that held all of the secrets that Bag End had to offer. 

“Thorin Oakenshield,” He said with a bow, his eyes still shark on Bilbo as he took several more steps up the stairs, almost within arms reach now. “I am the leader of the company, let me extend my warmest appreciation for your kindness towards my kin”. His expression was intense, searching, Bilbo could feel the curiosity building in the man before him. 

“I’ve been alone for a very long time, Master Oakenshield.” Bilbo started, fiddling with his suspenders and toeing a rock with his furred feet. Bilbo had to drop his gaze, someone so searching, he didn’t think anyone had examined him so deeply in his life. When he looked up again Thorin was just outside of his personal space. Bilbo was already as far back against his smial door as he could go hazel eyes illuminated in the moonlight. _Nervous_ , he was extremely nervous. “Please believe me when I say you and your kin will always be welcomed in Bag End….” He paused, looking up at the Dwarf under golden eyelashes. 

The Dwarf was imposing, there was an air of power around him, Bilbo didn’t know how but he very clearly was in a position of great responsibility. Normal beings didn’t feel like this Thorin did at all. Bilbo could feel the _curiosity_ and _uncertainty_ flutter around him like a butterfly. 

“For that my people thank you, Master Baggins.” Thorin said in a rich timber. He seemed to have decided on Bilbo being worthy 

Bilbo held the Dwarf’s gaze for several moments before shifting in discomfort and shuffling sideways to put some distance between himself and the majestic creature. Blushing at the unwavering gaze. He watched out of the corner of his eye and noticed ferns _fascination, shelter_ and forsythia _anticipation_ crawling its way under his fences _._ Bilbo’s eyes widened and he tried his best to make them to just _stop_ . Thankfully before the flora could climb so far to brush Thorin’s legs Bilbo felt a shift coming towards the door and could faintly hear the voice of Kili ringing through his hall. Bilbo practically leapt forward just as the door popped open almost falling into the leader of the company. 

“Mr. B-. Uncle Thorin! Come in, come in!” Kili’s exuberance was something that Bilbo found delightful. Kili felt _good, happy, surprised_ at seeing “uncle Thorin”. Bilbo watched with a raised eyebrow and utter glee as Kili grabbed his uncle and started dragging him into the smial . Kili proceeded to strip Thorin of his cloak, sword, and boots in a matter of seconds and had him sitting at the table a sea of noise took over the room as greetings. Bilbo slipped into the kitchen to unveil the plate he had saved for the leader of the company. Nodding to Bifur on his way through who rumbled out the deep guttural of Khuzdul . Bilbo felt the _gratitude_ and smiled mumbling out a “ _you’re welcome”._ Moving back into the formal dining room he quietly placed the overflowing platter in front of Thorin who now sat at the head of the table. Thorin sent him a unreadable expression, _hunger, surprise, astonished appreciation_ , which Bilbo met with an encouraging smile. 

The group had quieted if only a little, settling into their respective places. Fili and Kili pulled Bilbo to sit between them, though he was slightly bewildered he went willingly. He took a moment to _feel_ the room, while also smiling at the now beautifully clean dining room. 

“Thank you for cleaning! I very much wasn’t looking forward to the dishes _.”_ Bilbo addressed the room with a grin. He picked apart a peony _bashful_ that he had shoved in his pocket at some point under the table. Petals fell onto the floor as Bilbo felt the _nervousness_ build up in the room. When a wave of happiness moved across the room Bilbo knew his job in this setting was done. 

Bilbo took the opportunity to observe all the family groups around him. He wondered, briefly, if this is what it felt like to be at a family reunion. They all seemed to be chattering in Khuzdul, and while he couldn’t understand what they were saying he could understand what they were _feeling_ . He was content to let his eyes drift around the room. His eyes settled to their leader, _their_ , he had to chuff he had already decided they were worth fighting for. Worth giving up his home for, and he didn’t even _know,_ what they were fighting for. He studied the leader, now bent toward Balin, who obviously was something of his advisor. They spoke quietly, Thorin still taking small bites of his meal while listening to Balin jovially address what were clearly serious subjects nodding along between bites. 

“What _do you think, Bilbo?”_ Gandalf asked from across the table, “ _I’m looking for someone to share an adventure.”_ He said with a careful smile. Upon hearing the bell like flowing natural language of the Hobbits. To Bilbo Hobbitish felt like soft ivy and ferns on the forest floor. The words felt like softly stroking your hands into the fur of your favorite family pet on a cool fall day. Upon hearing an unfamiliar language, the Dwarrow seemed to drop into silence and become hyper focused on Bilbo and Gandalf. That made Bilbo slightly uncomfortable, but he only gave Gandalf a flat look. 

“ _I think I’m quite ready for another adventure.”_ He said in a final manner “But I’d very much like to know what adventure I’m agreeing to first. _”_ His expression was mischievous as Kili’s aura, but he verbally remained impassive. He was packed, worried, and ready for a new adventure. Bilbo had already known that he would be saying goodbye to Bag End eventually. He already had a will submitted with the Thain for Primula and Drogo to take his smial after they were wed as he had dreamed several times and several years in the past. Hamfast would watch over the wards and the home until they could take the smial themselves. He had letters written to all the heads of the families with important predictions for the future, even if he was an oddity, they knew his prediction skills were not to be trifled with. He hoped they would take his warnings to heart. Bilbo smiled indulgently at Ori when questioned what language they were using with a quiet, “I’ll explain later”. 

Turning his eyes back to the head of the table seemed to spark the rest of the company to do the same. Thorin had finished eating and a Dwarf, _Dori_ Bilbo reminded himself, had cleaned his space. They table was empty, and it was clear that the time for celebration and reunion had ended. Bilbo kept twitching his fingers together in attempt to stop from creating flowers or causing anything from raising into the air. While the Dwarrow enlisted a wizard, he wasn’t foolish enough to expose Hobbitish magic in the Shire and expect someone not to notice. It would be hard enough to explain to the Dwarrow if they had paid attention to the ever-changing flowers climbing along his fences, or the intense energy that had fallen over his wards. 

_Seriousness, nervousness, worry_. 

They all shared the same fears, even Bilbo and he wasn’t even sure what he was walking into. He knew however that this wasn’t going to be a walk through the daisies. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that they were going into any adventure that was any less than life altering. Not that even a walk in the daisies with outsiders wouldn’t be life altering with the threats that the elders had given him almost yearly until his parents had passed away. 

“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” Balin asked carefully. Bilbo was surprised that this wasn’t a product of their obviously private conversation from earlier but wasn’t about to pry or question anything the two discussed. 

“Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms.” Thorin announced, leaning forward into the table, his face dark in the candlelight. His expression was impassive, but his aura was _upset, disappointed, resigned_. 

“Seven Kingdoms?” Bilbo questioned as Dwalin spoke up. “What did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?” His tone was excited and seemed to be holding a bit of hope. Bilbo was worried that he would be dissatisfied with what Bilbo was assuming wasn’t good news. He was alright with being ignored, though desire to learn knowledge of the race he was assisting was beginning to almost be as strong as willingness to adventure. 

“They will not come.” Thorin said solemnly. 

The reaction was instant. All the Dwarrow were visibly shaken and distressed. The volume began to arise again, Bilbo was slightly unused to the absolute _disgust, anguish, disappointment._ Coming off so many creatures at one time. It made him physically upset. His face flushing, unused to being so affected by the emotions of others. Perhaps he wasn’t used to anything other than strained indifference and disgust from hobbits. Knowing how intuitive he was other hobbits normally took extra care not to reveal too much. The Dwarves and Bilbo huffed and puffed for several moments before finally settling down. 

“They said the quest is ours and ours alone”, Thorin finished, his voice not revealing as much as Bilbo had hoped, but how he felt revealed enough for Bilbo that he didn’t need to know the Dwarf to read his voice. 

“Not just yours,” Bilbo was quick to interject. “I may be but one Hobbit, but the moment you lot walked into my Smial I was at your service.” The Dwarves stopped to gaze at him for a few moments. All slightly taken aback for such loyalty from someone who has only just met them when their own kin had all but abandoned them. Bilbo could feel the _awe_. While unnecessary it was appreciated, he had always wanted to be a part of something. These Dwarrow seemed like just the “something” he wanted to be a part of. 


	6. 5 - The Hierophant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hierophant - Education, Learning, Religion, Seeking counsel or advice, Spiritual guidance, Tradition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again readers!
> 
> This one was a little slow for me, I find writing the direct movie quotes very tedious and sometimes it takes me a little longer bringing things to life. Hopefully you enjoy my twist on things. A lot of the important dialog will be there, but with my own personal twist to fit my characterization. This was supposed to be posted yesterday but I got called into a emergency shift at the Emergency Veterinary Hospital I work at. Please enjoy!
> 
> Thank you so much for the support by the way, I hope that you continue to enjoy this work as much as I've been enjoying writing it. <3
> 
> -Rose

Blessed Be

by Sowilo Rose

5 - The Hierophant (Chapter 5)

The Hierophant - Education, Learning, Religion, Seeking counsel or advice, Spiritual guidance, Tradition.

“Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light.” Gandalf addressed Bilbo directly. Winking at him as he reached into his pocket and fiddled for a moment, obviously searching for something he had hidden there. With a hesitant nod and an encouraging smile sent toward Thorin, Bilbo popped up from his seat between Kili and Fili and padded out of the room in search of more candles. Bilbo could just hear Gandalf addressing the table, as well as the faint rustling of paper being sat atop the wooden surface. A hush fell in the dining room again.

Bilbo wondered into the study, his eyes drifting one of the many portraits of his parents. His mind flashed to a time of laughter; a ghostly image of his younger self ran past giggling, golden ringlets bouncing with each clumsy stride his high bell like laugh leaving a trail of crocus _cheerfulness_ and white carnations _innocence_ in his wake. His father thundering after him, his deep laughter filled the smial with joy and _life_. Coming back to reality and hearing the quiet chatter in the dining hall brought Bilbo back to himself. Bag End has been quiet for so exceptionally long, but even in the quiet peace stained with loneliness and loss, Bag End was _his_. He knew he was walking through Bag End for what would be the last time night. Never again would he return to this home. Bilbo felt himself choke up if only for a moment, trying to stop the sweet pea, _departure_ , from falling to the ground.

Bilbo busied himself by turning to the nearest cupboard near the large oak table covered in books and stray pieces of parchment. Reaching into the darkness of the stained cupboard, rustling between the extra bottles of colored ink and scrolls of parchments. Finally, at the bottom of the shelves he pulled out a small cherry box full of candles. He knew the elders would kick him for using ritual candles for anything other than rituals. But this entire experience felt like fate, and Bilbo rationalized that they needed all the protection they could get. With a nod to himself he opened the cherry box lined with black velvet. The candles inside were deep black, made for protection magic and banishing negativity. The candles had sigils carved into their stem to bring even more strength to the spell work. His mother’s specialty was candle work and divination, these specific candles and sigils were hand dipped and carved by Belladonna herself. He stood to his full height and ran his free hand down his waistcoat trying to settle imaginary wrinkles. Shoving purple hyacinth _sorrow_ into the cupboard and out of sight before he turned to move back to the formal dining hall.

****

Bilbo reappeared to Gandalf and the Dwarrow (much to his surprise) patiently waiting for him. He schooled his expression and presented Gandalf with the box of candles.

“Bilbo, are you sure?” Gandalf questioned after opening the box. His mouth slightly agape and eyes widened in surprise. He pulled a single candle from the box as if it were made of a rare gem. With a soft exhale of air, he breathed life into the candle and the wick of the tall thick candle burst into a small but bright ball of light. A mutter went around the wooden table at the sudden display of magic. As though the wizard had been lying about his abilities.

“Wha’ is it?” questioned Bofur, a lot of dwarves leaned in to get a closer look, “looks jus’ like a candle te me.” He continued, glancing up at Bilbo like he was soft in the head. Bilbo rolled his eyes and reached out for the candle. As soon as his fingers brushed the candle the sigils carved into the candle began to glow and the candle began to spark gain even more height.

“These are incredibly special candles, Master Bofur. In fact, these 8 candles are the only ones like them in the entirety of Middle Earth.” He said looking lovingly at the candle before using it to shine light upon the map. “My mother hand dipped and carved each sigil herself but 2 days before she passed. They were made with the intent to protect those present in its light.” He didn’t go into much detail. Discussing their beliefs in the Shire wasn’t the smartest idea The Dwarrow were staring at him with an unreadable expression, and to hide his discomfort and embarrassment he gazed down at the map. He took a moment to stare at the map, the single, solitary peek stood out to him. An innocent red depiction of a dragon floated above the peek. His eyes glazed over the writing. “The lonely mountain.” Bilbo read carefully, eyes sliding to meet the interested gaze of Thorin before moving over to Gandalf.

Obviously with the conversation on Bilbo’s candles ended, things turned serious once more.

****

“Aye, Oin has read the portents,” Gloin began, taking the attention away from Bilbo and back to much more serious matters. “and the portents say: It is time” Gloin nodded with conviction. _Serious, knowledge, intention_. He knew what he was talking about. A ripple of _excitement_ ran through the room and up Bilbo’s spine causing a shiver to run through his body.

“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. When the birds of the old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.” Oin said, nodding in agreement with is brother. Bilbo took a moment to observe the sudden ripple of mumbles between the familiar groups. He couldn’t help the subtle smile that made its way on his lips as they continued to talk amongst themselves any second there was distraction. It was then that Bilbo suddenly replated the sentence before and got a confused look on his face.

“Um, yes, w-what beast.” Bilbo inquired, sliding onto one of the benches and positioned himself next to Bofur. Beast? Bilbo really was beginning to question what he was getting himself into. No less willing, but a little more hesitant. This truly was shaping up to be quite an adventure and it hadn’t even begun yet.

It was Bofur who responded to his question “Well that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals.” Bofur said with a surprisingly serious tone. He felt _playful,_ but still oh so _severe._ OH. Oh lord a dragon. Bilbo sat looking aghast at him before turning his gaze to Gandalf. Gandalf had _seen_ the last dragon that had ransacked the Shire some hundred years ago. Before Bilbo’s time, but the devastation still lingered for some time before Bilbo’s powers came into fruition and he was able to heal the land during one of the full moons during his childhood, before he knew the hurt of the judgement of the other Hobbits, before he knew what his powers were really like.

“Yes. I unfortunately know what a dragon is.” He said, giving a sideways expression to Bofur, watching him out of the corner of his eyes. His eyes snapped to Ori, feeling the sudden burst of _confidence, conviction, pride_ rip from the Dwarf.

“I’m not afraid,” Ori said standing tall, his palm smacked flat against the oak table and got the attention of the other Dwarves. Bilbo scanned the room for reactions. _Surprise, entertainment, pride_. Surprise mainly coming from Dwalin, entertainment from Fili and Kili, Pride from Nori. “I’m up for it!” Ori continued, while convincing he was slightly lacking in intimidation wearing the large loose knit sweater and lovely, neat fingerless gloves, obviously stained with ink from writing and wear. “I’ll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his jacksy!” with a final shake of his fist he was finally pulled down by Dori with a look of _disapproval_ (though Bilbo felt underlying _fear_ and _pride_ ) and a barked out “ **sit DOWN** ”.

“The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest.” Balin interjected. His lack of confidence seemed a little jarring, Bilbo had a feeling that while Balin was rational, at one time he was quite the troublemaker himself. Though Bilbo wouldn’t interject on that matter or try to prove that point at this time. Especially not as a large wave of _indignation, anger, embarrassment._ Made its way around the room.

“Who are _you_ calling dim?” Kili exclaimed. His tone was indignant and extremely insulted.

Suddenly the room was wrought with loud cries of anger and argument. Bilbo sat quietly watching the chaos unfold. His jaw was agape slightly as the group had gone from calm conversation to absolute madness in a just a matter of moments. Bilbo looked between Thorin and Gandalf. Thorin’s expression was masked indifference but Bilbo could feel the _impatience, agitation, exhaustion_ rolling off of him in waves. Bilbo looked at Gandalf and knew even though the man couldn’t _read_ like Bilbo could, he wasn’t a fool that couldn’t see the growing frustration on the illustrious leader.

“We may be few in numbers,” Fili began, looking around the table, trying to bring order to the room, “but we are fighters, everyone of us. To the last Dwarf!” a cry erupted across the room as the Dwarrow seemed to get even more passionate upon Fili’s exclamation.

“And you forget we have a wizard in our company, Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.” Kili announced with confidence. Though Bilbo had to say his amusement at Gandalf fumbling over his words. Bilbo however _knew_ he had been at war with at least one dragon. He had been the one to defeat the dragon who invaded the Shire.

“One.” Bilbo said loudly. Suddenly causing silence to rip through the room. Gandalf looked sharply at Bilbo with a startled expression. “You’ve killed at least one dragon, though he was but a drakeling, haven’t you Gandalf. 350 years ago, if I remember history correctly.” Suddenly the doubtful gazes turned shocked and were staring at Gandalf. Though there was some _uncertainty_ that still lingered.

“Y-yes, yes Bilbo, that is quite a bit of forgotten history. I myself had almost forgotten.” Bilbo nodded at Gandalf’s comment, though the Dwarrow became loud again as another argument broke out. Bilbo began rubbing his temples. Unsure of when he had become so exhausted, but he felt as if his entire life of sleepless nights had caught up with him all at once. _Please, p-please._ He started to beg, suddenly feeling extremely overwhelmed at everything going on.

****

A pair of hands slammed onto the table as Thorin stood suddenly, a sharp command in Khuzdul seemed to bring conversation and arguments to a screeching halt. Bilbo hadn’t even been speaking but he felt his teeth slam together so hard his jaw ached. His head whipped to stare at Oakenshield as if seeing him for the first time.

“If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too?” Thorin hissed, his eyes were dark thunderclouds crackling with emotion. Bilbo almost _choked_. These Dwarves are so passionate, their emotions while closed off at first were practically exploding out of them. _Reverence, respect, fear._ These creatures were so expressive in their own ways. Expressions of stone, but underneath they were torrents and storms. Even after moments of knowing them, Bilbo was amazed by the passion. Hobbits while pleasant on the outside had a backwards politeness about them. Closed off and restrained especially around him. He was brought back again when Thorin began to speak once more. “Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk.”. He paused, staring deep into the souls of each Dwarf sitting at the table. “Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?” With that a battle cry erupted into the room filling the smial with noise.

While conversation around Bilbo continued, he felt his minds eye wonder to a past that wasn’t even his. Normally, he wouldn’t gaze into a history like this. He normally wouldn’t have a need to. He just wanted to _understand_. He just wanted to know. Why they were going for this quest. Why were they so willing to march toward almost certain death? Why was he? For a people he was only just meeting. A large collection of Dwarrow marching across desolation. The smell of burning hinted with the metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils so much he almost wanted to gag. The harsh cries of _loss_ were overwhelming. His eyes were glazed over as he watched. Thorin and company face hardships after hardship. He watched them spend years bleeding for their people, doing what was _necessary_ to survive. Somehow, this company, this family came to be on his doorstep. Having a communion in his home before a quest that could make or break their entire race. Bilbo knew this was where he belonged.

****

“That’s why we need a burglar!” Ori said with a serious tone, bringing Bilbo back from his vision.

“Hm? What now?” Bilbo said, shaking the feeling of cobwebs out of his head. His eyes were slightly clouded with tears from the ghost of memories. He hadn’t realized how many moments he had been floating.

“A master burglar, are you one?” Gloin questioned, eyebrow raised in suspicion. It was then that he realized he had the entire house full of Dwarves and the wizard staring him down. Bilbo couldn’t help the snort that creeps up his nose. A look of disbelief crossed his face, but he kept his mind straight as he decided how to respond. He could lie, and say he had experience, or he could be honest. It would be easy enough to prove his slight of hand. Not to mention his other talents he would keep between himself and Gandalf until someone caught on or they needed to be revealed.

“Master Gloin, I am _not_ a professional burglar, but” A noise of indignation rose from the table which Thorin silenced with his hand, nodding for Bilbo to continue with an open and encouraging look on his face, “but,” He paused for effect before producing two coin purses and Gloin’s locket from his hands under the table. Bofur and Gloin looked at him absolutely gob smacked, both patting at their jackets and Gloin reaching to grab the locket off of the oak table. “I’m not at all inexperienced.” He said quietly while scratching at the back of his neck. He wouldn’t mention the Ivy that had grown to help delicately pluck the items out of the distracted Dwarf’s pocket.

Gandalf looked absolutely chuffed, a lot of the Dwarrow were looking less apprehensive but not entirely impressed. Bilbo felt like he was floating slightly, still not completely recovered from his vision of the past.

“Give him the contract, if the Wizard vouches for him, he will travel with us.” Thorin said sharply.


	7. 6 - The Lovers (chapter 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lovers - Being at a crossroads, Choices, Commitment, Falling in love, Partnerships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOO!
> 
> Hey homies! Sorry for the delay. Between my elderly grandma staying for the holidays and working the overnight emergency shift at the animal hospital where I work, I've been straight exhausted. I'm going to be going back to school soon as well, so while stuff will be spread out I promise content will still be coming sometimes it might just take me a month or so between posts. But I truly enjoy this story so I'm going to finish it even if it kills me. 
> 
> Anyway friends I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm hoping to get two done between today and tomorrow!
> 
> With love,  
> Rose

Blessed Be 

by Sowilo Rose 

6 – The Lovers (Chapter 6) 

The Lovers - Being at a crossroads, Choices, Commitment, Falling in love, Partnerships 

Bilbo wanted to state that he hadn’t intended to almost cause a diplomatic break down. That wasn’t his intention at all. Bilbo wanted to travel with the Dwarves, maybe succeed in their quest, and hopefully find a new home somewhere along the way. He hadn’t expected something as simple as reading the contract cause a small earth shattering realization to slip through the entire room. It had started so simply. Maybe having lived the way he did for so long it was easier to come to grips with what his life had been like, even as a child. Bilbo, having not realized how strange life had been, said such a simple thing without even realizing his sentence had started. 

It had started with the contract. 

**** 

“It’s just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth.” Balin said, scratching the back of his neck. Balin had raised to his feet and presented Bilbo with the contract, Bilbo, wanting a small bit of privacy. 

“Oh, funeral arrangements?” Bilbo questioned. Looking back at the group. “O-o-oh. Well.” Bilbo suddenly was rather uncomfortable. He hadn’t necessarily thought about what they would do with his body if he died. If he survived, he had just expected to chance upon somewhere to live even if it was carving a home for himself with the birds and the beasts. He hadn’t considered that the needed to have his death in order as well. “I suppose just leave me where I fall?” He said with a shrug. He supposed it would be the greatest honor for a Hobbit to be reclaimed by nature, unorthodox not to have a period of grieving, _not that anyone would mourn him_ , or a celebration of life followed by a ritual to guide his soul to the Earth Mother’s home. He leaned against the arched doorway separating the dining hall from the main hallway of the smial. 

He hadn’t noticed the sudden silence fall over the room until he looked up briefly, only to find the entire room, including Gandalf, staring at him as if he had grown an entire garden in the entrance way. Bilbo almost startled with the sudden attention, Bilbo isn’t used to having so much attention, especially with such intense emotion. 

“You want us to…leave you?” it was Nori that spoke up. The Dwarf had been decently quiet to Bilbo the entire night, only being introduced and not going much further to get to know Bilbo. Not exactly shunning him, but not going out of his way to interact with Bilbo. It was a little alarming that a Dwarf that hadn’t even tried to interact with him when most of the others had gone out of their way to be polite despite initial meetings. Bilbo glanced between Gandalf and Thorin, both who had facial expressions that were suddenly very grim. Opening himself up to the feelings, _confusion,_ _alarm, agitation._ Bilbo didn’t quite understand. He shook his head and raised his hands. 

“Well I suppose you could bury me if you’d like,” Starting a small uproar between the youngest dwarves. Oin pipping up and asking _He said what?_ Over the rising _alarm_ and _anger_. “I’m sorry, I suppose leaving bodies about wouldn’t be good if we’re trying to be secretive”. Bilbo yelped, concluding that the anger was due to his lack of care. 

When Bilbo started to feel _Gandalf_ getting agitated and confused, he knew there was much more to their anger. Bilbo just wanted them to be _happy, grateful, joyful_ again. He did not like these heavier emotions that were being thrown about, especially in his direction. 

“Oh, this won’t do…please follow me to the den.” He said straightening up. He wasn’t doing this here. He needed comfort, an armchair, and afterwards he needed a stiff powerful drink. “Please.” He said again, turning with his back to the group and starting to stride into the darkness of the smial. He heard the group slowly moving to follow him into the darkness. 

**** 

While the hallway was mostly dark, it was clear of any debris on the floor. The group of Dwarves could make out outline of portraits. Small shelves lined the walls with baskets full of herbs, dried flowers, and different candles. There were herbs hanging from the ceiling in bundles to dry. Some of the taller Dwarrow had to duck to avoid. The scent of fresh flowers, and drying herbs was something stark that they could smell strongly now that they were away from the kitchen and left over foods. The dark wood had countless sigils carved into its grains. There was a warm light glowing at the end of the hall deep under hill. It may not be a mountain, but for Bilbo it was home. 

Bilbo turned left into the warm den. Taking a moment to soak in the warmth and comfort the room had to offer him. Above the mantle held the final portraits and the alter made in their memories. Bilbo had grown ivy _friendship_ for his father, and sprigs of belladonna _beautiful lady_ for his mother. There were objects of their lives. The hearth had a strong fire roaring deep within. His mother was a collector of divination and any knickknacks she could find. Bones, flowers, crystals, and the high priestess tarot card stood tall on her side. For his father he had a love of craft, and written words. Books an d other creations and collections stood on his side. Bilbo moved into the room, grabbing several blankets and spreading them about the comfortable nest of armchairs, overstuffed sofas and piles of cushions on the floor. The Dwarrow piled into the room and claimed seat after comfortable seat in the room. Grabbing blankets and pillows and snuggling in, _satiated, comfortable, warm_. 

Bilbo claimed his armchair right next to the warm hearth. As everyone grabbed a seat, Gandalf claiming a large man sized seat for his own, Bilbo could see the group of Dwarrow finally calming down and relaxing. A Hobbit’s den was something of a sacred space, somewhere where family gathered, or very dear friends. It wasn’t often that outsiders were welcome in this space, or even told of it. Bilbo eyed them briefly for as they settled in, Dwarves becoming comfortable on the plush sofas and accommodations. 

Kili and Ori were curled under a blanket not far from Fili and Dori. Nori sat perched on a chair in the corner that had a view of the entire room, though he also had a blanket covering his legs and was resting in more of a relaxed posture and seemed to be staring into Bilbo’s soul trying to read him. Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin sat aside Gandalf and were quietly talking among themselves. Gloin and Oin were speaking quiet to one another, the seemed to be speaking about a small object that was sitting in the former’s hand. Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur seemed to be twiddling away at some wood carvings on wood that they had stashed somewhere on their beings. _Comfort_ . That’s a much better feeling that echoed through the room. It felt so much _calmer_ now that they were settled. Bilbo himself could feel the warmth of the fire and felt himself relaxing. Trying to ignore the ever-growing urge to _grow something_. Or to speak to the trees and beasts in the night. The urge to bring more comfort and light into the home with his powers. Something he hadn’t wanted to do in quite some time. 

**** 

“Why would you want us to abandon you, Bilbo?” Ori was the one to break Bilbo out of his trance. The earnest and genuine look is what broke Bilbo’s resolve, truly Bilbo hadn’t planned on telling any part of his story, or any part of his secrets to the Dwarves until the need arose, however, perhaps a little understanding would help bring things into perspective for them. 

Bilbo looked around the room that had quieted slightly. Taking in the varying look of interest and _curiosity_ that seemed to overwhelm much of the group. He felt himself sigh, carefully rubbing the back of his neck in confliction. How did one explain a Hobbit’s culture without truly explaining the culture? 

“Well. I should start by saying that Hobbit’s enjoy privacy on their culture,” he began carefully, surely, the secretive Dwarves would understand that. They were secretive enough to put Hobbit’s to shame, though he doubted they had good reason to be as secretive as the Hobbits did. “We aren’t a race of warriors, we aren’t a great race who quest, or have kings,” he paused once more. His hand moving to rub tiredly between his eyes, his heart aching with the thought of what he was saying. “We are a small race that treasures earth, family, hearth, and home. We do not go on adventures; we don’t have great riches hidden in our halls. A Hobbit’s value is based on his size of brood, and the quality of his fields.” Bilbo twiddled with a loose thread on his armchair, eyes gazing into that large hearth. “We take from the land, we give to the land, and we return to that land and The Green Lady when our days come to end.” 

He took a shuddering breath, his eyes glancing around the room, before settling on the portraits of his parents once again. He didn’t really know the read of the room, everyone seemed to be deep in _thought_ . Emotions trailing into a calm buzz of _reflection. Understanding._ _Sadness_ _._

_“_ When a Hobbit dies, only their closest kin deal with the funeral. It is a time of mourning and reflection. They are buried with a ritual of our Green Lady and sent into the afterlife in her halls.” Bilbo said with a pained look on his face. “The Shire is a Hobbit’s greatest treasure. Her safety, her abundance. She is a Hobbit’s greatest gift from the Green Lady.” He didn’t know if he goes into much more detail here. He didn’t know if his heart could take speaking more about this. “Well, at any rate. As you can see, I have no family. I have no Kin. There will be no one willing to receive my remains” He laughed morbidly and paused again “in fact a few would be glad to be rid of me”. Bilbo had a sad sort of smile on his face as he gazed into the portraits of his parents before turning his eyes back to the Dwarves. His eyes met with Thorin with a resolved and serious glaze over them. “I will not have a ritual to send my soul along. It is best not to bother yourself. I will not be missed here.” He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic in this room full of heavy gazes. _Sadness, pain, loss, understanding, compassion._ All feelings moving around the room. 

What he didn’t expect was for the room to erupt into a fit of absolute _rage_ . _Indignation_ . _Anger. Anger. Anger._ **_ANGER._ ** The room absolutely exploded for emotion. Dwarrow standing and shouting at Gandalf, for not bringing them to Bilbo sooner. _For_ Bilbo. Angry that he had no family to bury him _if_ he died. Bilbo didn’t know if he needed to be more thankful or overwhelmed in that moment. It was at that moment that Bilbo knew he 100% was committed to this cause, and even if it was only a little, he had a feeling they were committed to him as well. Though he did hope they didn’t break out of his home just to show how serious they were about the Hobbit’s treatment of him. Bilbo would just keep any mention of just how ostracized he was here until they were a few leagues away. 


End file.
